Describing a golfer’s paradise when you’re not a diehard golfer isn’t easy. The things that catch a novice’s eye aren’t nearly the same as those that would catch a diehard’s.

Beauty, to be sure, lies in the eye of the beholder, and that’s as much the case when you’re talking about Augusta National on the opening day of the 78th Masters as when you’re talking the Mona Lisa, the merits of The Band Perry, the viability of Ryan Goins as a second baseman or whether the Wolf of Wall Street or American Hustle provided a bigger cinematic high.

On this day, of course, Bill Haas loved this golf course like no other place on earth. This son of a golfer raced to the first-round lead just ahead of three others, including defending champion Adam Scott, while the Canadian contingent of Mike Weir and Graham DeLaet was solid and awful, respectively.

But let’s get a little beyond the Day One scores, shall we?

Let’s take a walk together.

On a perfect, cloudless day that included just enough breeze to make Augusta National’s vaunted greens go from firm to fast at the beginning of what many believe is a wide-open tournament, one had to be struck by the way in which this ancient indigo plantation was transformed when practice golf gave way to keeping score.

On the previous three days, it had the feel of a country fair. Folks wandered here and there, golfers hit two balls or even three when the mood struck, and stories of Arnie and Jack and even Tiger were shared by one and all.

That atmosphere, however, was replaced by something palpably different on Wednesday when competition, and history, injected themselves into the equation.

Suddenly, there was a quiet intensity, one veteran observers would tell you always accompanies what many believe is the world’s most important golf tournament.

When Wednesday began, with the Bermuda grass still damp and the temperatures cool in the early morning Georgia air, the fairways no longer seemed quite so open, the fragrance of the flowers was stronger and the elevations steeper and more pronounced.

The quaint customs and charming traditions — the Big Oak Tree meeting place, the vintage manual scoreboards, the way in which a simple, white rope means something to be respected — seemed more like echoes of Masters past than anachronisms.

The experience of walking the course varies; at times it feels like a peaceful walk in a pine forest, at other times it’s a hike up the steep hills that are much steeper than they appear on television, and at other times it feels similar to a day in Disneyland when out at the back of the course near the large pro shop the merchandise is moving fast and furious.

Patrons are draining $3 beers at 9 a.m. and, well, after years of hearing about this place, it feels like a place that can be pretty much anything you want it to be. Not nearly as stuffy or elitish as some had pre-warned, but at the same time a sense of respect for the sport and this event prevail.

Spectators line up outside the gates as early as 4 a.m. for the chance to race inside just after 7 a.m. and plunk a chair down at one of the prime locations.

Todd Riolo, a golf pro at Kanon Valley Country Club near Syracuse, queued up at 5:30 a.m. then speed-walked — you’re not supposed to run — to the picturesque No. 16 green and the edge of the long, rectangular pond that players are known to skip their balls across, sometimes even for an ace.

All this hours before a ball would be struck anywhere in the vicinity.

With a flowering redbud tree nearby, Riolo put his chair in place, never fearing someone would take it or use it, even when the crowds got thick later in the day.

“There’s lots of tricks to learn,” he chuckled.

Oddly, Riolo set up on the far side of the green, away from the pin placement.

“It’s because of the TV camera,” he said, pointing across the green. “You want to get seen on TV.”

All in all, it’s a lot to take in for a rookie, which is maybe why DeLaet, facing the course for real for the first time, bogeyed six of the first seven holes and ballooned to an 80.

“I did not think it was going to play this tough,” he said. “It just exposed me.”

Weir did better with a decent 73, not bad after missing the cut three straight years. A Swede named Jonas Blixt grabbed an early lead, and then was passed by cigar-smoking, pigtail-wearing Spaniard Miguel Angel Jimenez, and then Scott charged by both and ended up shooting a 69.

“No doubt winning last year made me more confident on the first tee than other years,” said the Aussie. “It took the pressure off. What’s the worse that can happen? I’m still a Masters champion.”

Haas found himself at the top of the leaderboard with a 68 when the day was done, and while few imagine he’ll be there at the end of Sunday, it was his day to be more than the son of Jay Haas.

And so it began. And so we began.

Hope you enjoyed our walk.

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